


A Quiet Promise To Always Be There

by akitokihojo



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Kirby Morrow - Freeform, MirSan, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitokihojo/pseuds/akitokihojo
Summary: Kirby Morrow's passing physically hurt me, so I wrote this small Miroku piece in his honor. :(
Relationships: Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	A Quiet Promise To Always Be There

He'd won the battle. He'd won the girl. He'd freed himself of his cursed confinements and created a rich and fulfilling life. He'd helped many along the way, lost plenty, saved himself, his friends, and the only woman in the world that mattered to him - ready to give up his own battle at any given moment if it meant she lived in the end. His name meant something as it slipped off her tongue, her heartbeat was the rhythm his soul danced to, and as she caressed his face, soothing the sweat-inducing nightmares away brought on by the terrors he'd witnessed since he was just a boy, he realized not for the first time that he finally had a sense of comfort in the darkness.

Her body rested just beside him, slim, toned, scooting closer and closer as he calmed down to press her chest to his. Their home was freshly-built, the wooden walls creaking as they settled during the stormy night, the dying fire in the center crackling quietly as it barely provided any light to see.

"Are you okay?" Sango whispered sweetly, her skin warm against his.

Miroku could only bring himself to nod, engulfed completely in her homely aura that brought him back to the present.

"What was it about this time?" She tried, still keeping her tone low and smooth.

He shook his head.

"Your father?"

There was a moment of silence, where all he did was focus on the way her lungs expanded as she breathed, pressing her further against him, her body heat a remedy to his mental ailments. The chime of distant thunder boomed, the heavy rain smacking against their roof, against the mud outside, all of it serving a grounding effect. Everything was fine.

Again, Miroku shook his head.

Sango breathed in, understanding his apprehensive silence. Softly, she pressed a kiss to the bare flesh of his chest before looking up at his barely visibly face in the darkness. "Ah, me."

Her nimble fingers glided over his abdomen, slowly treading over muscle and scars, over ridges and curves, smooth skin that turned into thickened memories, reaching his arm and gliding down the length, over the veins, to his wrist, and stopping carefully as he flinched when she reached the back of his hand. It wasn't there anymore, but she knew Miroku had yet to adjust.

The fact that he could feel the pads of her fingers against the skin of his hand made him nervous. His first thought was always to question where his wrappings were. Why could he feel her? Were his beads properly placed? Would his nightmare come to fruition? But, nothing happened. There was nothing to be afraid of, and Sango was so patient to allow him to realize it himself. His worries were a reflex, his fears were learned, and she was willing to walk alongside him as he unlearned them.

When he relaxed, the tension leaving his body almost as quickly as it had risen, his beautiful partner grabbed his palm, using it as a lead to pull his entire arm her way. She wrapped it around he waist, and he chuckled as he got the hint, shifting to his side to hold her naked body.

"I've never felt like I've needed someone to protect me." She spoke, nuzzling her nose against his. "I was raised to be tough, to withstand judgement, to bring down demons, and stand my ground no matter who I may be against. I was the protector. But, with you, monk," Her gentle fingers grazed the soft skin of his bottom lip tenderly. "I feel safe. You give me the kind of security I never knew I wanted."

"Sango -"

"Use that hand. Use it to touch me. The wind tunnel is gone now, so you don't need to constantly hold it in a fist anymore."

He hadn't realized he was doing so, unfurling his fingers to spread his open palm flat against her back. She seemed to melt in his hold, silently encouraging him to gradually feel her frame with his neglected hand. Her curves, her spine, her toned muscles, the large scar her brother had unintentionally given her - that Naraku had given her - her shoulder, her neck, her jaw, then finally her cheek where he lovingly rested it, her eyes closing at his caress.

"You never feared me." He lightly chuckled.

"Not once." Sango giggled, loving his laugh as he happily accepted her playful remark, knowing full and well that she wasn't just talking about his wind tunnel.

"It returns in my dreams. It takes everything that matters from me. It takes you." He sorely admitted, pressing his forehead against hers. "I know it isn't real. I know Naraku is dead and took his curses with him. Still, the stress haunts me."

"It's only been a month, Miroku. You lived with it for much longer than that. How can you expect yourself to be over it so soon? It's habit. It's become second nature. Eventually, the dreams will fade and you'll sleep soundly. You wont have to remind yourself that it's okay to touch me without the beads. In the meantime, I'll be here to remind you of it all."

Miroku grinned, letting her words sink and settle before claiming her lips in a grateful kiss.

"Do you love me, Sango?"

"Very much."

He hummed, switching his hold to grasp the plush of her thigh and bring it over his hips, pulling her on top of him. His partner was easy to comply, straddling his waist as her arms supported her upper body on each side of his head. "You're much more affectionate when we're alone. The real lesson I should learn is to keep you all to myself."

"Now, what fun would that be if I was like this all the time? Face it, monk, you fell for my wit first."

"Right, you are." He agreed, pushing her long, brown hair from her face. "I guess I should be more appreciative."

"You should."

"So, how can I ever repay you for such sweet reassurance, my love?"

Sango playfully pursed her lips as she pondered for a moment, ducking down to hover just over his ear as she whispered, "That thing you did last night? Do it again."

Miroku chuckled as a surge of heat coursed through him, his hands gripping her firmly as he rolled her over on her back. "Anything for you."

And, he meant that. With every ounce of energy in his spirit, with every fiber of his being, with all the will in his power, he would give her anything. He would protect her with his life, for she was the first person he ever feared losing. He would keep her warm in the night, soothe away her own traumatic night terrors, wipe her tears and kiss her as much as he could - especially when she was feeling particularly affectionate, much like this.

His drive before was to save himself. That transitioned to a desire to save Sango. Which then transitioned into a need to save them both. So that they could be together, live together, marry one another, build a harmonious future. Sango made him feel wanted. Needed. That feeling only grew enormously as a tiny hand gripped his right index finger, big, wondrous eyes drooping as they drifted to sleep, swaddled and safe in his arms. Their twin sister was already asleep, belly rising and falling in their comfortable spot in front of his folded legs. And, his wife lay soundly beside him, resting securely after birthing their daughters.

A tear pricked his eye not for the first time that night as he looked at his three reasons to fight, to live, to protect and provide. Angling his supporting arm up, he pressed a delicate kiss to his baby's forehead, a quiet promise to always be there.


End file.
